


Crybaby

by VaultEscapeArtist



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:31:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultEscapeArtist/pseuds/VaultEscapeArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raiders and some unexpected hallucinogens make for one long night for the Sole Survivor and MacCready.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crybaby

**_Crybaby_**  
_Fallout 4_  
_Sole Survivor/Robert Joseph MacCready_

 **A/N** : Was thinking about some of the fucked up shit raiders did in Fallout 3 and how much more fucked up it would be if they did this in FO4.

* * *

 He hated that pip-boy of hers. Sure, MacCready knew he really shouldn't. That damn ticking piece of machinery had saved their asses more times than he could count. And despite living most of his youth in a literal cave, he could count fairly high. Math skills were a surprisingly essential part of being a half-decent mercenary. MacCready was far from half-decent.

  
But, back to his original point. He hated that damn thing. Without that little computer of hers he'd never know that he was currently standing watch in thirty degree weather. That was Fahrenheit. The ever gracious ice queen had been so kind to tell him the temperature in Celsius. “It's barely below zero.” Like that was supposed to make it better. Whatever happened to ignorance is bliss? Did that not exist back in 2077?

  
He was freezing and it was dark and to be quite honest little miss “I was frozen for two hundred years so you can't complain about cold to me” snored.

  
His paper thin duster did little to protect him and they couldn't risk a fire because the boss said so. To be clear, what she had precisely said was “Yeah, Mac, let's start a fire and you take first watch and then I wake up murdered because that's how I like to start my mornings.”

  
She was only giving him a hard time because of all the shit he had given her earlier that day but did she honestly have to set off every frag mine in a three mile radius?

  
MacCready rubbed his hands together and, cupping his hands to his mouth, blew into them. If something or someone did find them he'd hate to die simply because his fingers were too frozen to pull a trigger. They were camped a little too close to the Gunner hideout they had just cleared for Fred Allen back in Goodneighbor. Jesus, they really needed to stop taking jobs from junkies. Normally he would have suggested they stay inside the place they had just spent countless ammunition clearing, but HalluciGen Inc. was being pumped full of, well, hallucinogens. He himself had only just stopped feeling the effects thanks to the Addictol the boss had shoved down his throat. They had only had one hit of the stuff on hand so they decided he'd keep watch while she slept off whatever the fuck it was that they inhaled.

  
The wind started dying down and he strained his eyes, scanning the perimeter and looking for any sign of change.

  
Change was bad. Always. MacCready held his breath as the sudden stillness allowed him to hear an oddly familiar crying.

  
Shit, he thought. “Shoot,” he breathed and considered waking the boss. Raiders were nearby and it was probably worth it to pack up and move on.

  
“I got it.”

  
Seemed the boss was already up. Stupidly MacCready replied, “Got what?”

  
The boss rubbed sleep from her eyes or she tried to. She didn't seem fully awake.

  
“I mean I got him. He needs me.” She was up and stumbling her way down from their nest and towards the garage where the faint crying was continued. Some animal must have set if off, he thinks, because he can't see anyone else down there. The boss continued, her voice sounding oddly soft and far away, “You got him last night.”

  
He lunged after her, lifting his rifle to one shoulder as he grabbed at her with his free arm. MacCready's as loud as he can be without attracting too much more attention. “Hey, boss you need to wake up.” When she shook him loose, he added, “Nora, come on.” She hated her name. Hated hearing it. He only found out what it was because that pirate lookout had read off her driver's license back aboard the USS Constitution. God, that whole affair had been a complete joke. “Nora, wake up. It's not what you think--”

  
The crying's louder or the wind's quieter but either way she's running now. MacCready slipped and let out a quick, “Fuck!” as he chased after her and tried to watch her six at the same time.  
Jesus, she was fast. He'd needed to stop smoking or she needed to start. Either way. A gunshot whizzed dangerously close to his left ear and MacCready skidded to a halt and took cover behind a mailbox. Nora kept running.

 

* * *

 Something didn't feel quite right. She felt like she's out of place, like she's late to class and she's just stepped into the wrong room. She's often felt this way ever since...since...

  
Shaun. He was crying for her, loud and needing and with an undertone of static. There shouldn't be static. He needed her. There shouldn't be static. Shaun needs her.

  
She stopped near a baby carriage, her fingers aching and reaching for...

  
There's a speaker in the carriage and a tape and no Shaun. Then Nora saw there's something else.

* * *

An explosion shook the ground and blew hot debris into his back and down his neck and if there wasn't a raider with a pool cue getting way too familiar with him, MacCready might have been more bothered. As it was this raider really wanted his pool cue to be inside him and that was exactly where MacCready did not want it to be.

  
A lucky shot and some late in the game adrenaline got pool cue raider off his shit and MacCready scrambled towards the area he just heard explode. It's not normally his first move. He whispered and then shouted, “Boss? Nora! You fucking idiot!” Not again. Not fucking again.

  
There's more than one dead body among the debris but the corpses might have been there for two hundred years for all he knew. Searching for a glimpse of that unmistakable blue, MacCready dug and kicked at loose debris until...

  
“I just wanted my baby. I heard my baby.” Nora—The boss is curled up behind a Nuka Cola machine. She must have dove behind it seconds before the blast. A few seconds slower and he might have been bringing her home in his backpack. It's freaky the way she's murmuring and rocking back and forth. In a moment of panic that he's not particularly proud of, MacCready shook her gently until she acknowledged that he was there. “I want Shaun,” she coughed.

  
“Goddammit,” he swore again but when he says it it's almost affectionately. She's still out of it, though she's also fully intact. It could have been much worse, considering. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed and then who's going to lug all that trash back to Sanctuary? Not me.” Her only response was a groan and an attempt to stand. Exasperated, MacCready held her down and, after distracting her by pinching her left shoulder, stabbed a stimpak into her right one.

  
When she curses she goes to town, having not made a promise to a little kid to clean up her act. “I hate needles,” she seethed and added quickly, quietly, “I swear I heard Shaun and before you tell me it's stupid--”

  
“It's not stupid,” he said too quickly so MacCready tried to make up for it with, “It was really stupid. But it looks like that explosion knocked some sense into you, knucklehead.” Mungo, he almost wants to say.

  
She rubs uselessly at her face, mostly succeeding in smearing dirt and blood around. “What was that thing? I haven't seen a raider use a trap like that before.”

  
Well, things have changed since you've been a popsicle. “They used to do it in the DC all the time,” MacCready shrugged, trying to change the subject. He suddenly grabs her chin and holds it there, watching her eyes for any sign of dilation. “C'mon, boss. Why else would a baby carriage be out in the middle of the Commons?”

  
She blinked at that and stared up at the buildings, acting as if it was her first time really seeing the dozen bodies hanging from the roof. “God,” she breathed, shivering as much as he was earlier. “It's hell out here. Maybe Shaun's better off in the Institute. I mean, look at that. It's almost abstract art.”

  
“Hey, don't start talking like that. Like he'd be better off without his mom.” MacCready was determined not to let her start that kind of self-loathing shit. Their happy little duo already had that in spades. “It's just the drugs. You know you're a great mom. This shi-stuff I've seen you kill just to find your son. Ridiculous. We'll get you to Goodneighbor and the Mayor can even you out.” Hancock's a chem genius. Whatever's in her system that's causing flashbacks or hallucinations or what have you, Hancock would take care of it.

  
He helped her stand. While she leaned against him for support, Nora added quietly, “Fifty caps if you forget this ever happened.”  
This was easy. “Done.”

  
MacCready watched her warily as the boss examined her pip-boy. Her fingers tapped the screen in irritation. Then, “It's 34 degrees outside.”

  
_“Ahh, shut up.”_


End file.
